Chapter 1: Aftermath
Chapter Text
A thick heavy tension diffused throughout the arena as the damage of what had been done, sunk in. Now all eyes wearily observed the figure lying still on the cold hard floor at the centre of the arena.
The figure was Athena to everyone’s disbelief. One would laugh at the possibility of the favorite child of Zeus being physically struck to ungodly extremes as delusional, however all of Olympus had seen what had happened in the last few seconds of the game.
Athena herself, through her semiconscious state, recalled the bleeding repercussions she had just faced of her fathers’ wrath. The stiff silence caused a deafening pain in Athena’s heart. She felt the urge to get up. A part of her mind begged her to stand, to fight till her student friend was free. The other part, wanted to bow down in shame and beg her father for a second chance at being loyal. She felt like she was walking on a tight rope between two pillars.
She felt humanity in her god-like being...
She avoided the first attack, swiftly dodging with the support of her spear. The next attack caused her to shield her slowly breaking heart with her aegis. Then she could no longer avoid his hatred. A huge personified blot lunged through her arm letting agonizing currents seep into her skin. She felt her bone lose its form and the energy of her essence get depleted.
It was dangling like a stick.
How demeaning.
Yet.
She did not falter.
She did not dare give up.
She had dug a hole far too deep to get out of. She was falling through quick sand.
Then two ferocious lightning bolts dissolved her armor and let her face the blinding radiation full on, as well as leaving some splotchy stabs of camouflaging ichor. The next bolt hit and she momentarily lost her consciousness. Feeling a dull ache in her eye, a screaming fire in her cheek. She felt as if more damage was done during the dark period as she floated in her consciousness.
She knew her father. She was the favorite after all. She knew him better than everybody (well except, perhaps, Hera).
She had known there would be consequences during this game, there always were when Zeus felt threatened.
But this.
This…
She felt lost, sick, and shattered.
She felt dead.
She might as well be.
The perfect tool, that obeyed till her insides turned sour. The perfect tool finally rusted without letting her siblings galvanize instead. Now just a little dot of rust and she was discarded. Just a 25 degree turn in the ‘wrong’ direction and she was thrown.
She was trash.
She was useless.
Was that all she was meant to be?
Her mind was floating in an abyss. She believed that her body was also actively being thrashed, shattering her glass walls. She could not visibly see anything…
Only the thought of Odysseus gave her a little ray of hope, in the bottom of her ‘Pandora’s box’.
She felt possessed as her vision returned to her. She wanted to believe that she had kept fighting, She was the Goddess of War...but her mind retreated again.
Vision to no vision. Vision to no vision.
Her mind was playing with her. Like a toy. She felt the cold ground stabbing some idle pieces of lighting further into her skin. She felt eyes onto her, not the jealous kind this time, but pity.
She felt lost? relieved? She did not know.
She heard whiffs of conversations.
“She will heal alone…-“ “…eave!”
“Ple…ase…le…me….eal…her….”
She heard soft sobs and gasps.
Then she floated again.
O0O0O0O0O0
It was only at the sound of a whooshing water did Athena finally wake up.
The floor was drenched, making it one of the few times it rained on Olympus.
Athena spat out ichor and shivered at the contact with the icy river. She felt the water burn her skin in agitation. Then without even thinking further, she pushed herself upright inviting a dizzy spell. She forced her body to cooperate, pushing her weight onto the spear, holding onto it like a lifeline. Despite the terrors and tremors, she turned around and walked.
In other words, she slowly dragged her feet, like a toddler learning its baby steps. After all, she was in water. Owls disliked water. She reassured herself.
'How is it like to fly?' smiled a nymph perched by the water.
'It gives me a moment of freedom. A moment I can control. I will strenghten it to benefit us in war.' she replied.
Quickly she was pulled in the water, yelping in surprise.
There was a tackle battle, half in water, half on land.
Finally the nymph held the goddess steady.
'You have so much to unlearn, Thena! If something gives you freedom you must cherish it, enjoy it. Not everything is a war weapon!' she lectured worriedly.
After some silence and the young Goddesses wise decision not to argue, she said,
'Pallas! How can I enjoy it if you've drenched my wings and made them all wet?'
They chuckled loudly in bursts of giggles.
She chuckled and then winced at the pain.
(image by dork_vio (aka me) on insta)
Her wings burned.
Her vision was covered by a clear liquid, it didn’t feel like a tear but it was cloudy. Her left eye fared better, slowly taking in the surroundings.
The arena was empty.
Not even the king himself lay on his throne.
But she could tell he was in a mood, for a drenched Olympus was horrendous. \
The floods and internal damage the following days would endure trying to sweep out the water would be infuriating. If she was not facing his wrath right then, than it would be her responsibility to order her siblings around.
She would be in charge. The favorite sibling.
She was always.
But this time it felt different. She would not be Zeus’ favorite anymore. She would not have a privilege, a leverage. She would be at the lowest totem pole. Pathetic.
She could see her own golden-yellow liquid merge with the water in every step.
Her hand throbbed as she noticed the lightning stabbing it. There were specks entangled in different parts of her body.
Seeing her own ichor in the water was ghastly…
'Where is everybody? Do they pity me that much? Do they not care at all?'
She thought at least Apollo who casually checked in with her, once in a while, would be there. If not, then maybe at least Hestia.
Perhaps she was being foolish. Why would they care? She was used to being a subject of envy but she expected at least a little bit of compassion… But perhaps she was always a cold sister, undeserving of affection. She despised Aphrodite’s domain, nevertheless.
She continued to drag her feet down the slippery pebbled steps to the ragged stone steps until she was finally outside. It felt like a whole millennia had passed when she reached her place.
She had passed by Hera and Artemis’ place and heard nothing. Were they all so disgusted that they evacuated the palace?
Or maybe they had work, that’s right, Athena was not the main character. She was not meant to be so self-centered.
She only got hit by her Father (albeit extreme lightning bolts), everyone else had faced her father’s abuse before.
She was not special.
Currents snapped her out of her head. Her feet were electrocuting, the lightning had come in complete contact with water and was now charging her body with excruciating pain. Still, she walked ahead. She had to.
As tears bubbled in her eyes and her sight blurred even further, she still walked further.
She was still going to be useful.
Ares had gotten himself injured so often!
His arrogance was another matter, but he still had not lost his place in Olympus. If he could do that, then surely she could redeem her role as the favorite child. She had to stop her pessimism!
With that ray of optimism, she carried forth.
How foolish, when did she fall so low that she was relying on optimism?
The last step was the most destructive one. Being so close to relief yet so far away.
She forced all her energy, pushing happy thoughts forward. All she could think about was her failure.
But she made it.
She had lost complete track of time, but despite that, the moment she reached her tidy (unused looking) room she plonked on the bed and faded into a blessed yet painful slumber.
A break from the unbecoming reminder of her position. Her purpose. Her role.
She, at that moment, was just a child requiring a much-needed break. An abused child wanting a well-needed escape. Of course, she wouldn’t believe it.
'You deserve to be happy too Thena! I'm gonna teach you all the pranks you can do!'
The voice of the past rung by her ear, almost as if the woman herself was present.
Athena, however, had lulled into sleep. Hoping to stay asleep.
Despite her newfound optimism, she knew she was no longer needed on Olympus.
She was no longer worthy in her father’s eyes.
"Goddess and man, bestest of friends!
She only had one place left to go.
Only one remaining responsibility, before her existence was deemed meaningless.
However, the pressing purpose of finding Odysseus would have to wait until tomorrow...
Chapter 2: Rethinking
Summary:
Athena rethinks everything.
Chapter Text
The bed had never felt warmer than this moment, as her ichor slowly bled onto the sheets.
Athena disliked sleeping to the core, and was probably on Hypnos’ enemy list. She even went to the degree of training in the night to avoid his domain. Not that she wasn't always looking for an excuse to be productive. "You needn't waste your time on crafts Athena, be useful to me. Make me proud,"
She believed sleep was only good for the nightmares it brought…Pallas...it pained her that the nymph haunted her in slumber which she did not have time for.
Hence, the unused bed brought her an unfamiliar ease as she dwelled into a soundless sleep.
At a level she felt the restless need to get out in the woods, the chirping of the crickets and the hoots of the owls always lulled her to sleep.
Despite the comfort, she felt unsafe. Lost
What was she doing with her life?
She felt like a lost cub, with nothing to hold onto. She just drowned in sleep, in a dreamless sleep.
The first time she got her domain, Quick Thought, she had realized the similarities between it and slumber. The two realms had various features alike, only separating in the terms of use:
Quick thought was used to supervise memories in real time and allow a barrier between time and the real world. The dream domain tended to build real world matters into a more wafty sense. Both were calming to a degree but overutilizing either would only bring drawbacks.
In other words, dreams just reflected her core worries, it just brought up the past. She would die a thousand deaths, then wander aimlessly in the past.
Her existance was a repercussion of her mistakes. She was a mistake and she knew it.
She would never sleep, willingly.
Yet, as Athena finally awoke to the piercing pain of her swollen wounds, she decided overusing Quick thought would be a wise escape.
Coward, You don't care for the results of your actions. Coward.
She landed on the long, endless tiles of the hourglass. The starry sky twinkled on top of her.
This was the solace she needed. Her heart finally rested into a normal rhythm. She had not realised that her heart rate was so bad earlier. Why wasn't she calm? This was normal. It was okay. It;s not like she died
Before she could count on the peace, however, all heart stopped.
The scene changed immediately causing waves of shock attacking her.
Her hands where tied and she gave out screams of agony.
She looked up for anything, anyone.
But worse than anything, was the fact that there was nobody there.
She was all alone, lightning bolts attacking her.
Current numbing her.
She was gagging, her wounds reopened. She felt her heart break and felt like barfing her soul free.
She thrashed out her hands, pulling against the rope but it just became tighter.
She was dying alive.
Then suddenly, to her relief, the lightning stopped blasting her. Her numbed heart gained hope again.
She could breathe
But she couldn't even count on that.
She coundn't count on that one sliver of hope. She couldn't count on anything!
She stood like a possessed soul, haunted in every move. She was cornered by her psyche.
Then the next torment arose as all the memories of the arena repeated on loop.
All the levels.
On loop.
Apollo and his minor argument about the sirens.
Hephaestus and his unnerving argument about trust. As if anybody could trust him.
Aphrodite and her seductive attempt to one-up Athena constantly.
Ares and his brutal words.
Hera and her condescending gaze Zeus…
Father and his wrath.
These events repeated and reiterated into a never-ending spell. Athena had warned her students not to overthink about situations, for the mind tended to alter true sight. The mind could bend reality into a weapon of lies. But she did not heed her own warning.
Hypocrite.
As the memories played back, she saw different situations. Truer realities.
Apollo pitied her. He gave her a small argument because he prioritizes peace.
Hephaestus eyed her with malicious intent. The same eyes as that day…They had talked soon after, to work together on various other projects, but his eyes were forever changed from the young ambitious boy she used to know. His eyes were unveiling her. She was vulnerable. So, he pitied her as he entered her space.
Aphrodite looked down upon Athena. Athena’s inability to love people romantically. Her inability to get close to people platonically. Her inability to have a life. Athena herself knew she was unusual, she herself desired what she lacked at times.
So, naturally, she worked herself to death; to avoid being ridiculed. If she was compared, it would be in a good light.
Still, she knew she was lacking every time she encountered Aphrodite.
Still, she was buried with jealousy.
Ares hates everybody (except maybe Aphrodite). Ares hated Athena, too. She was fine with that, for despite his pig-headedness, she had respect for their shared domain. She would respect him even as he pierced her heart with bullet-like words. She would fight him on the arena even as she knew all he saw was an enemy.
Hera always disliked Athena as all of Zeus’ affair children. But Athena was not an affair child so she got better treatment: ignorance. How lovely. Hera loved toying with people. She even toyed with herself into emotional manipulation. She was good at that, a mad woman with repressed hate.
Athena saw her future in Hera, she thought she would crack one day to be exactly like her. She was afraid of the unpredictable. So, as Hera teased her step-child on the arena, Athena was sure there was venom behind it. Hera wanted the girl to mess up. Athena would not look at it as fondness.
Lastly Zeus. Father of the century. She could bring herself to ashes by how she felt about him. She always loved him, even then. But there was a numbness of uncertainty she felt. A wavering resolution.
She had to see Odysseus. She had to protect him from the terrors her father was capable of
Finally. Escaping hell. She exited Quick Thought, waking up again to a dress her wounds.
She could not believe how horrid they looked: Her scabs were burning, as if she was dipped into lava. The sight was a purple blue stocked with golden. It was so bad that large amounts of ichor deep inside her body evacuated lightly, mixing with the palette of her skin. They were soaking her sheets.
She felt like puking, she had never seen so much. It was dizzying. She had a legacy of not injuring herself beyond a scratch. Even that was healed with Apollo’s finer remedies.
Look how far she has fallen.
Pathetic.
Just what father thought she would end up being without him.
She tried to get up but her body felt numb. She immediately tripped. Her body pulsed in pain.
Then as if that wasn't enough, she felt several chills pass through her body, like she was six feet underground covered in a blanket of ice. The numbness was grievous and the cold ground wasn't helping.
She dragged herself to her work table, like a tortoise, by latching onto different objects and pulling herself. This just made her feel worse and nauseous. She felt a skin rub against the tiles and agitate.
She was certain this was a result of her skin coming in contact with the bacteria in that rainwater.
She should've treated it right after reaching home. Why was she so stupid?
Finally, she sat upright with great force and found a first aid kit. Apollo had given some materials to her and Ares for their constant sparring matches and his busy schedule.
Father would laugh at how worthless she looked as she struggled to open the small latch of the box. Her fingers throbbed badly as she finally succeeded.
She examined the material in the box and only recognized a few objects. She would stick to them. She did not yearn for more pain.
Using eye drops on a severed tendon would not be on her list of embarrassments. The flute was embarrassing enough
She took a cloth, soaked it in alcohol and gently pressed it to her skin trying to mimic how Apollo used to treat her. Then she repeated it for each and every hurt on her scaring body. There was a lot. She knew there was lighting stuck in some areas inside too, but she decided to keep it as a reminder for her inefficiencies. Father would be proud of that.
She wondered why Apollo wasn't there. He was one of the few people she got along with, and even if he did not share the sentiment, he always tried to help as many people as possible.
Was she really that much of a sight?
The alcohol eradicated the numbness as her whole body reverberated in havoc. Maybe the numbness wasn't so bad…
When she finished the final wound on her face, she, at last, realized that she had seemingly lost most of her vision from her eye. The other eye was seemingly fine.
She did not know what to make of this.
She had too much to think about, too much she had lost recently...her family, her student, her eye, her fathers’ love, her dignity, her strength…
She sat there in silence.
In fact, other than a few whimpers and groans, she hadn't really said anything since the incident. She didn't really talk to herself, in spite of her favoring knowledgeable speeches.
What could she say to herself? Yell at herself for messing up?
She would become a madwoman
She wondered if Odysseus had been freed. She wouldn't be allowed to visit Ogygia and her safest option were the waters running beside it. Then again, she and Poseidon weren't exactly best buddies.
She hoped he was free.
She would've prayed, but goddesses didn't generally need to pray. She didn't have high hopes, father was always unjust when he was angry.
But she hoped him scarring her for decades was the only punishment. She didn't know what she would do if all of this was for nothing.
She wished she could find out now, but the treatment of impairments was draining enough.
Before she knew it, her pupils constricted into a deep slumber.
This time she slept angular on the ground, dead to the world, as her wounds lightly hummed.
Chapter 3: Risktaking
Summary:
Athena gets the help she needs. (Not really)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It felt like a good year of bandaging, treating and sleeping before she could finally stand, outside of Quick thought. She had not used Quick Thought thoroughly after last time.
Only briefly moving to her domain, fixing the tiles of the cracked hourglass and leaving.
One would think tilework would take a few hours, but all Quick Thought required was her imagination.
Not that she had the energy to do anything else
Believe her, she had tried to escape the encompass of her home multiple times and failed in humiliation.
Standing itself, was quite the feat. Her body was heaving and shivering as numbing pain raced the repercussions for the lightning pieces still stuck in her skin.
She would leave that for Apollo, she decided. Not that he was there anywhere to contact.
Not that there was anybody that dared visit her.
She did not think of the isolation she was facing.
She was usually very isolated, spending most of her time training herself or others.
Why had she bothered to think someone had cared? Why was she wasting her potential and mindspace thinking about the usual?
She never belonged with the others.
It was only until Odysseus that she had finally bothered to form a proper social relationship. And even in that, it was Odysseus at the steering wheel.
She suddenly snapped back to her thoughts, that's right...how could she forget?
She had to find Odysseus.
She quickly pushed herself out of the bed, for once not collapsing into a flopped pile on the floor.
Painfully walking towards the window, she hastily measured time with her stick-like hands and barely functioning eye.
She had spent three days in this weakened state.
She looked so scrawny. 'You better gain some strength by the time I call you back, Athena. Do not lounge by the shore, no one needs to see the scrawny daughter of mine'
She had spent three days in this precarious position.
Three days!
Why was she even surprised? She did not have Apollo's remedies, nor Zeus' love. She did not have nobody. Even the human she sacraficed all of this would reject her back into his life...she was sure.
She had to snap out of these thoughts. What kind of Goddess of Wisdom moped around
Three days was more than she would’ve liked.
She had gone soft. 'Whenever I fail at my lessons, my dad always teaches me a trick. Failure is part of life Thena. I'm not mad at you for dropping me'
She was used to fighting giants and still being able to train in the evening! What a mess! 'You must rest Athena. I do not want to send you back to Zeus, miserable.'
She had fallen so low… 'Goddess and man, Bestest of friends!'
She released her breath. She did not like to remember her nymph friend for the grief it brought. But these thoughts were happy.
She imagined Zeus' eyes watching her, mocking her.
But she had to carry on. She had to prevent Odysseus from suffering the same fate.
The decomposed body in the arena. The bloodied spear in her heart.
She shuddered the thought away. So much for happy thoughts.
She tried and tried again, flying was something she could once to with ease, but her mind had become penatrable to unecessary thoughts.
What good could she do in such a beat up appearence and such a run down mentality?
She fluttered her wings for a couple of rounds before deciding to fly. They were scarred and bloody and hurt more than the lightning swimming in her eye. Lifting herself was the biggest challenge. She knew she could do more.
'WOOOOOO THENA! THIS IS THE BEST, I'M SOARINGGG!' she exclaimed.
'Tecnically, I'm soaring since I'm carrying you.'
'WHATEVER IT BE. THIS IS SO COOOLLL'
She shook her head.
She had to focus.
Happy memories always turned dark. That was the way of life. She would not get caught up in that.
She stood, perched at the window. She waited ready for the wind to pause.
How many times had she succeeded in flying? a rational part of her asked. But she hardly had time.
It was now or never.
She jumped out of her window, falling down the clowds away from Olympus.
Down. Down. Down.
Her wings were frozen in place.
Molten ichor started flowing everywhere, from the strain.
She heaved, which land did she want to bless? She had to land.
She forgot she was not at her usual capacity! Like a baby bird, she lightly screeched and wailed her arms in a panic.
The adrenaline of smooth air on her skin and prickling sunlight. The tormenting pain of her senses and her one-eyed owl vision. Eventually, down was all she went. She was not steering herself.
This was bad.
She had reached deep below the clouds when she finally decided to transform into a full owl form. How had she forgotten? If any humans saw her falling, she would get another lashing from father!
There would be tales and myths passed on for great generations. The fiasco and fall of the Goddess that once was
Between the transformations, the enraging visual focus with her one burning eye; the oscillating gashes. Her thrumming headache.
She wasn’t flying, she was barely surviving.
Her owl form fell into the trees, wings and feathers got cut and further bruised.
Athena had always held herself with pride, much to Odysseus words.
‘‘Selfish, prideful and vain’’.
She was not a fool, though. She knew her strengths and weaknesses. She knew envy and insecurity was also a constant in her life. And she also had her ways of dealing with these situations. She would work harder. She would learn. She would try again. She would get up even after her father struck her.
But most importantly, she would cleverly mask it so that nobody saw through her vulnerabilities. Yes. That was wise. She laughed pitiably. She would be the joke of the century, otherwise. More than “Daddy’s Little Pet”.
But Odysseus…he had managed to see through her.
He knew she was not as perfect as she wanted everybody to see her as.
For how long? How did he not give up on her when he found out? Was it just humanity?
He knew her as everything but wise.
“Since, you claim you’re so much wiser, why’s your life spent all alone?”
She would want to gain clarity, but she was cold. Stiff.
That’s right, her body completely stiffened as she fell like a bullet, and banged right onto the ground. She was in Quick Thought, unable to see her surroundings.
Was she so lost in thought that she bashed into the middle of nowhere?
She did not even know which soil she was lying on. Her head reeled.
Senses begun muting leaving only her one-eyed vision.
There was a structure besides her half-dead bird form.
A quail?
She did not prey on animals.
A few minutes of darkness passed. She and the quail made eye contact even though she was laying defeated.
She had always encouraged her students to fight even at the brink of death. Was it due to her lack of understanding?
She couldn't be a hypocrite, nevertheless.
She got back on her zygodactyl. Lightly perching in a weird manner, as if to intimidate a bird she could not even see.
Then she hopped and walked slowly to the face of the quail, finally seeing the silver glow of it. It blinded her half working eye.
She could barely stand in defence.
Immediately she was fine. As fine as she was before the flight.
She was in her godly form.
She quickly turned backinto her battered owl form and scanned.
Nobody, no bird, stood around.
If she wasn't a goddess herself, she would've lost her memories. Maybe even gone comatose.
But that was not the intention of the goddess that saved her.
She had been given another chance at survival. At reaching the castle that was very close to view.
This time, she did not dare fly into trouble. A saving grace was not easy to earn, especially at the disgrace she made of herself.
She would hatch a plan. She would observe the situation in the castle.
If Zeus had released her friend, seh would have few days to prepare the little wolf for what she feared was to come.
If When she made it back alive and well, and reclaim her purpose, she would repay the hunting goddess for her generosity.
...........
Artemis stood, invisible, on the light branch. Watching the grey owl practice flying.
She wondered why Athena had been so reckless. They both shared the love of planning.
It was Ares that did not bother with the art, and failed. (She had wondered how people with such a shared role, differed so greatly.)
Despite this, she did get along with her ‘family’ sometimes. After all, for thousands of years, they were forced to get along and aid each other with their endless needs.
Athena had helped Artemis train when she was old enough to, which was within two weeks…
They had gone through weapons other than her signature bow and arrow, to deal with any situation. That lesson was very beneficial at times when long range combat was impossible. However, that and the shared role as virgin goddesses were all they ever communicated in. Their relationship was sparse compared to the rest which was saying a lot since Artemis did not pride herself in communication.
She had thoughts about Athena, though; Favorite child, cold and distant from the rest, potential superiority complex, lacking a sense of humor. Perfect.
One would find her dull. However, these were also things Artemis had in her character description. She was certainly the more favored of Zeus’ children. She disliked talking to the rest. She felt the others beneath her, despite herself. She also did not tolerate teasing, much to Hermes’ disappointment.
This caused a sense of empathy that Artemis felt with Athena despite never communicating. A secret connection. So finding out that this very woman, her so-similar soulmate, a strong and independent one at that, was struck by Zeus…
Athena was strategic, so why would she fight for a mortal? Artemis did not understand this. Humans would die anyways, they would whither from their short lifespan. She had faced her own loses. Humans. But she would never fight for them to this degree! Such a sacrifice.
Why would a goddess risk her life for a weed like him? It was only one mortal…and a man at that.
The moon goddess would fight to a degree for her huntresses but knowing the consequences one would receive from fighting Zeus...
Why? She just did not get it. This made her frustrated.
Her anger was definitely not calmer when she saw the same sister falling from the sky, in her owl form, before slowly transforming into a bashed goddess on the ground. Gaia. What she was told, was not as bad as what was in front of her. Athena’s bruised wing had turned purple. Golden ichor smeared under her feathers, slowly seeping outside.
Athena was a completely different color, as if she was exposed to the dead for a few centuries (she had only seen this color on an overworked Hades and sometimes the Queen of the dead during her six-month honeymoon.) She could tell the beads of sweat would leave her completely dehydrated soon enough.
Based on her prior knowledge, Artemis was certain Athena’s blood circulation was a mess. Athena would soon be breathless, maybe even get a bad fever or…never mind…
The point was, her sister was definitely not treating her wounds properly. She wouldn’t expect much more, though. After all, with the current situation on Olympus there was not much anybody could do. Zeus’ wrath was affecting everybody. They all had to help themselves first before saving her.
They could not accept the fact that they were banned from aiding her. 'If she wishes to rebel, she will do so alone. NOBODY will aid her and survive.'
She was alive. She had taken a risk just like the no longer perfect sister of hers.
She could see her future in front of her. Lightning struck.
If The War Godess wished to continue her path then she had to tread lightly.
Nobody else would help her against Zeus' new game.
Notes:
Please enjoy the fluff. She's gonna suffer so much soon. :D
xx
Chapter Text
Two quiet days passed, as she wandered in her owl form. The suitors were yet to begin their fight, and Odysseus was yet to return.
Athena frequently found herself watching the water, eyeing the still, tranquil basin for any movement.
Oftentimes, she'd find herself resting against a treetop just watching the horizon, thoughtless.
She did not know what to think. Unexpected for the Goddess of Wisdom but perhaps things were changing.
Watching the orange-red sky turn dark and another night begin. Till it started over and over and over.
She was inspired by the simplicity of the day and night. Viewing the complex interactions of the several dieties as humans made everything seem much more profound and philososphical.
She felt like a human.
She felt like a survivor of a tribe, just looking for a reason to exist after her family had been masscaered.
But it was more like abandonement that made her look for spiritualism.
When had she really ever been alone?
Without Zeus' judgemental eyes watching her every move degrading her every task. Or siblings looking to investigate some of her rare imperfections.
She wished really they'd talk to her. She wished someone would talk to her.
They could've seen that she was just like them.
Now it was too late, she could live perfectly without anybody's gaze. She did not need anybody to interact with her.
She did not need an Apollo to an Artemis or a Prometheus to a Hestia, she did not even need a Hermes for everybody.
She was alive and she would live in solitude.
After the second evening, she tried to fly further to the castle.
Deceive others by her illusions, hide in the darkness and watch for any unrest between the suitors.
She knew the formation in which they were to attack. She knew the biggest of them would try to rape the queen. She knew she had to be watchful for the mindless dogs dictating the servents.
She disfavored visiting her newest pupil.
How would she prepare him for the upcoming fight? How could she train him when she couldn't even lift her spear.
She had spend the past two days, resting, eating (yes, actually eating!), and building endurance through the activities she once taught her students.
By the end of it she was no better than a teenager at fighting.
But at least she had some muscle back on her arm rather than the toned, weak, pile of bones it had previously become.
Still, she was bloody, bandaged and aching all over.
It had been nearly a week since her father's game. That meant Odysseus would return in about three days.
If he was to return. If he survived Poseidon's storm.
She had only two days to help Telemachus. How would she manage? He did not know the danger yet to come, he did not know how to defend himself with anything bigger than a knife.
She wouldn't let him die, but how would he live?
She had spent too long away for him and yet she did not feel guilt or remorse.
She felt cold, numb to everything taking place.
She remebered her siblings whispers.
"Why is she trying to be all artistic with that flute, she looks like a fish playing it, and of course she can't feel anything she blows"
"How heartless can you be, huh? Daddy's little pet! Grow a spine one day!"
"The only thing that sets you apart from your siblings, is your heart. You have none."
She had a heart, she just didn't have the space to display it.
She only had the permission to fight.
She was not wisdom nor war, she was the fight to survival.
Somehow, her heart had vanished when her need to survive did.
Her flame had whithered.
She was free to do whatever she wanted, she realised.
She had no obligations, no structure, and that made her feel at ease.
She was just an owl, a bruised one at that, but a bird that could finally use it's wings.
She was finally out of the cage free to fly!
It pained her to feel so unbothered for her humans.
Well, she did want them to live and reunite. But her bigger relief was the lack of judgement.
The animals didn't care for her. She had elimanated her divine aura, animals only uproached her now if they desired to. Some just wandered away with her.
She had never been in this form for so long.
She wondered if she'd be able to turn back.
Maybe it would be better if she couldn't.
Why it did bother her that Odysseus hated her, she was foolish for most of her life. She destroyed the good in everything.
She should've been used to people hating her.
She felt numb. Or maybe she was avoiding feeling
Like a corpse.
She did not want to help them. She wanted to decay in a lost pit somewhere and disintegrate.
She wanted to find her light. Her purpose on her own. She wanted to be free without anybody controlling her.
She wanted the chance to find herself without playing miss perfect.
But she knew she was being selfish. Her duty was to her humans.
When the fire would reignight in her ichor, she would regret not performing her duty.
So she finally flew to the castle, after hopes of avoidance.
She flew past the tall windows, letting the light of the moon guide her path.
She flew and flew till she reached Odysseus' old room, now belonging to Telemachus.
Then she entered the sursprisingly hald-open window and flew up to him.
He was not asleep.
He was lying on his bed with a knife under his pillow and a his back towards her face.
How bad had it become for him, to sleep in such a peculier manner?
He would not realise his own death if he moved back an inch...
Despite her clumsy flapping, he had not noticed the animal in the room. But he was awake, Athena had remmebered how Odysseus used to pretend to be fast asleep in their early morning sessions.
Perhaps his son inhereted something other than his wit and kindness.
Hoot hoot
Telemachus jumped upright and held his knife with a death-grip.
He scanned around.
She realised just then that she was still invisible.
She concentrated all her energy into her human-godly form. Still remaining invisible.
She could not let this child drown in worry over her wounded appearance.
He would have a lot to worry about, nonetheless, with the upcoming attack.
Finally, with as much silence as she could keep with the agonising transformation, she finally transfered into her butchered godly form.
She was in 10 times the pain. Just standing was hard.
While the few miliseconds of nerve ending tranformation passed, Telemachus busied himself in scanning the windows.
He no longer had a knife in his hand and his gaze appeared hopeful.
He was waiting for her, she realised.
She felt something after that realisation but she could not pinpoint the feeling.
She decided maybe a visible Goddess would be beneficial to this boy. Maybe an embrace...?
Gods what had gotten into her! She hated hugs!
"Telemachus."
He squeaked and turned around, hopeful.
Then he blinked, confused.
She had formed a mental link with him for the first time.
She still dreaded the idea of him seeing her in this battered way. She was supposed to be someone he looked up to.
"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" he said, dissapointed.
There was something in the way he said it that made her feel he had dreamt so before.
"I'm very much here Little Wolf, but if you'd rather sleep..."
She made sure her voice was a whisper. She had not used it for days. This would just worry him.
Why was she so worried about worrying him?
"Can you show yourself if you're really there?"
"Show yourself, I know your watching me.
He was being careful, any deity could mess with him. Any mortal could be part of a gods game.
She was proud by his caution but it was unfortunate for her.
"Very well, Little Wolf. Let's have it your way.
She manifested her cloak and quickly covered her bandaged self and ichor-dripping chiton.
She also wore her helmet despite the burning sensation in her eye.
Telemachus tensely watched, gripping the knife again. His face was pale.
She had taken a few minutes to cover herself.
She walked behind him and turned visible.
"If you are to defeat your enemy, you must be prepared in all directions."
She shoved him on the ground.
"ATHENA!" He jumped back up like a dog excited to play fetch, and then squeezed her heart out in the tightest embrace.
"Telemachus..." She started, wanting to scold him for his informality.
But she couldn't bring herself to.
She hugged the boy back, holding him lightly.
Then she teleported to his bedside.
He fell onto the window sill and sat there excited to hear his friend.
"I'm so glad you're back, Athena! How was your friend? Did you manage to help him?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes, I did. Thank you." she breathed out, "But we have other matters to deal with."
She walked towards him and then sat next to him, exhaustion seeping in her body.
"The suitors are planning on making a move in 3 days, I will prepare you to defend yourself. You will not fight them, you will only defend yourself and your mother." She said lightly.
Telemachus wanted to argue.
He wanted to fight.
He felt strong for the first time when he and the Goddess last interacted.
He wanted to feel that again, to be there for his mom.
But he knew his skills, he knew he wouldn't last.
He could barely manage attacking Antinous.
He had to follow what Athena said. He had to make sure his mom was safe.
He was overjoyed when he heard her voice in his head. She was more than a friend to him, she was what made his room home.
She was safety from the suitors.
She made mistakes and she was ready to fix them.
He would do all he could to find a better future with the both of them side by side.
"I'll train as hard as I can Thena!" He smiled brightly, optimistic now that he was no longer alone.
He raised his hand for a high-five. His palm was met with a cold wet feeling. almost like blood
Only then did he realise, out of his sleepy gaze, that his friend was covered all over.
He couldn't see her face, not her armor. Only a shadow of a smile on her face and her yellowish grey fingers.
He smiled brightly at her.
He would figure this out some other time.
He let hope alight him for the night as they both stared into the stars.
She would let him be happy, she would help him reunite with his father.
And then she would leave.
Notes:
Try to be optimistic, Athena...
Chapter 5: Uplift
Summary:
Athena and Telemachus fluff (mostly)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was a helplessly sunny day.
One of the worst days to be completely cloaked.
Athena braced herself for the attack, while discreetely wiping away the sweat on her face.
Telemachus lunged, full-force. His sword pressing against her spear. It blew away from the impact.
Then he huffed and ran back to retrieve it.
The day's training session was not going well, she felt her heart pounding after each strike. Not to mention the heat! She knew what Apollo would say to this state.
'You must take better care of yourself, I would've put you on medication for a month at the least!'
She sighed. This would not cut it. It was her luck the boy was incompetent at this, but she could see potential and it wasn't much longer that her disguise would last.
She was also completely cloaked up in her Aegis. She was sick of fighting when she could hardly see. Medusa's eyes hardly helped her mobility, only aiding in reminding her of another helpless person she put down.
"Hey, I'm back...sorry about that, I'm not that great huh?" The boy panted, his hands on his knees.
"Maybe you should take a break, little wolf. I could hardly blame you for being imperfect at such an early stage. The weather appears gruesome too", she whispered.
"No, if you're right and the suitors are coming, then I can't leave mom in danger because of my weakness! I can't let the weather affect me either. Let's do another round." He exclaimed.
She could see his choice was dependent on his emotions, he did not actually want to carry on with this training.
He was trembling, like a worn-out puppy. He had been pushed all his life, forced onto everything unnecessary for a child.
She could see the hardened expression on his face. He seemed infant to his adulthood.
She also knew her training regimes could be perilous to the human body. After all, her capabilities had been reduced to that of a mortal.
She wondered how long she had been differentiating between the two entities.
She helped create humans, had she not? Then why was she carrying forth with this lack of judgement.
She had to change her patterns, she had to evolve from Odysseus.
"No child. I won't let you train any more. If you are to protect the Queen of Ithaca from such perpetrators then you must do so refreshed. My training practices will exhaust you without breaks." She sighed, firmly.
She hated to mother him, but this child had never practiced such training before.
Silence persisted. She worried she had crossed the line.
'You crossed the line...consider this is my goodbye!'
Odysseus had crossed the line when he claimed she was alone.
He had no idea how true that was, how much grief she solely had to carry for years.
But he was right and nothing could change that.
Telemachus sighed, breaking her out of her thoughts.
Then he walked towards the pedestal at his parents statue and sat by it.
Athena followed this action and sat next to him.
He was seated at his mother's side of the statue. She could see his fear of his father. He was practically cocooned at his mothers feet, at the furthest distance from his father.
She did not understand his fear.
Was it because he had never seen his father? Or maybe he was simply sticking by what he had known so long.
"I'm scared." he said, affirming her former thoughts, "I fear the suitors, I fear they will attack my mom without me being able to do anything...and I worry that I will never be able to pass on his legacy."
"There is nothi-There is plenty to be scared of but you are prepared. Knowing what is to come always gives you the upper hand." She reassured him.
But she could see her words weren't enough.
Then she did what she never would've done before.
"Your father was a silly man, he was scared quite often."
Telemachus perked up and stared at her gawkingly.
"You knew my father? He was scared? When? Why? Wh-"
"Calm down, little wolf," she chuckled, "He was afraid of going to war, but more of leaving you and your mother. I recall him staying up most nights, whispering your names with prayers upon prayers. Even upon finishing the war he only prayed further at the years he missed as a husband and father...He has a big heart and that's something you both will always share. Don't cower now in fear of that heart, It gave him the courage to pass all the challenges incapable of man."
She leaned at patted his hair.
"And it will help you too."
Silence remained steady, it was no longer awkward nor melancholic but hopeful.
Telemachus stared, uplifted, at the statue of his father.
Athena stood up, "What do you think about simply talking for a while, I can see that energy radiating off of you."
Telemachus jumped off the pedestal, beamed at her, walking forwards.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Far away from the abandoned backyard, the two sat by a lake in the forest.
They had passed the morning chatting about hobbies, funny memories and disasters.
Athena did not have much to add other than their shared love for wood-carving.
After Telemachus concluded his baking disaster at the age of 10, his expression changed.
She could see him restless and she knew he wanted to ask more about his father.
He had not asked much about Odysseus after their initial discussion, much to the wisdom goddess' surprise.
She wondered how long it would be till this bubble of curiosity, popped.
After some more silence, the goddess gave in.
She started, "Is there anything you would like to ask, child?"
He turned red as if he was caught at a crime scene.
Then he started stuttering and asked for a moment to collect his thoughts.
This was all a bit strange for her to see. How nervous had he been about this topic? It was a little sweet.
Before she could think more however, she felt her insides explode.
Ichor started bursting through her roughly-patched bandages and it took everything in her to not scream out.
She could barely move, she felt a metallic taste at her throat and forced the taste in.
She could not traumatize the boy, but she was lightheaded now, a migraine pounding in her head.
The Volcano of every possible wound erupted in that millisecond.
She had to leave.
"Athena, I'd like to ask you about...Athena?" paused Telemachus, his face appeared worried.
But she could hardly pay attention, she was suffocating.
"...be back..." her voice strained.
She transformed into her bloody owl form and flapped her wings. But she only elevated a bit. She flapped harder flapping the ichor all around.
Her form was flickering.
"Athena no! You're hurt."
Telemachus bit his tongue, he had know she was hurt. But, he was too focused on preventing the future uprising.
'Big heart'
Tears welled up in his eyes, he had no big heart. How would he, when he was so self-centred.
She coughed out the solid ichor as she turned back into her godly-human form.
Then she fainted right onto his arms.
Telemachus' horrified face was the last thing she saw before she lost consciousness.
She coughed out what sounded like an apology as he saw her bruised face behind the aegis.
Above, at a suitable distance stood a messenger god. Arrows were pierced by his leg as he watched the whole fiasco.
Notes:
What do you think happened to Hermes?
Chapter 6: Downfall
Summary:
Telemarketing and Grandpa Dangerous have a though about their situation.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Telemachus spent the rest of the day patching Athena with herbs and remedies.
They were still in the forest, for that was the only place they could safely be without the suitors control.
He was still in shock.
Everything was going well, they were bonding... and he was going to learn more about his dad!
Then she fainted revealing wounds and infections, scarring nearly every part of what he could see.
Each breath caused an echo of whispers, he shivered not knowing what to make of it.
Why was she so injured?
Golden ichor was meant to be remedial, but she was leaking a waterfall of it.
Its glowing flow seeped into the grass she was on, it immediately grew and flourished.
It was not as if she wanted to bless Ithaca by her downfall.
He wanted her to be fine and alive and with him.
He needed her
She was actually opening up to him...
When he communicated with her the previous night, she let him embrace her.
So why did this have to happen?
He would've assumed the gods were cursing him and his family with the suitors uprising and all.
But Athena was a Goddess.
And she was in this miserable state.
Every wound was untreated. Her face was just shredded with lines of deep, wet scars. Every wound had been reopened at least once.
And all of them had been intertwined with muck and mud.
She was not even trying to take care of herself.
Thorns of lightning bolts poked out of her skin...
He had a rough idea where it came from but he did not want to imagine how a father could do that to his child...
His favorite child.
The God of the skies was known for his intelligent mind, his skill to find loopholes, his humor and personality, and of course his bravery and strength.
But there was more to him than it seemed.
He was a bad father.
He wondered if Odysseus wasn't as fantastic as the tales.
Was his father a bad father?
Was he being hopeful for someone he didn't know?
There were countless times when he imagined his father praising him, saving him from the suitors.
From playing games to learning diplomatic studies, he had imagined his father's whole character.
He imagined a fake to help him cope with the loss.
With the loneliness.
He always awaited his fathers return, but what if it sucked.
What if his father did not know what to do with an adult child.
He didn't even get a chance to try and be a father...
I recall him staying up most nights, whispering your names with prayers upon prayers. Even upon finishing the war he only prayed further at the years he missed as a husband and father'
No, His dad was a good man...He was thinking of his family even during war. He would come back and be a great dad!
But what were thoughts to actions?
It had been 10 years since the war's end, what if he was no longer of that mentality?
He shook his head, he could not be so pessimistic.
He would ask Athena more about his father when she was better.
But now he had to focus on helping her heal.
His father was missing all his life. But he had his mom. And he had Athena.
He wondered why she hid her predicament from him. He had thought there was a level of trust built between them.
Was he wrong?
In spite of that, wasn't she a goddess of war...she was bound to get hurt.
Her wounds looked contaminated and infected.
Most of the scabs were reopened, outlined by a layer of infection. Some wounds were leaking pus into a pool of rocks and granules.
He felt her skin, and she winced even in her unconscious state.
The raggedy surface outside the pool was disastrously tender.
He knew he had to clean the mud, or leave the wound open but there was too much ichor still leaking.
He applied some valve in the raggedy areas as Athena moaned in pain.
Then he bandaged her lightly.
Her temperature was very high too. Like literally, touching her skin lightly shocked him.
He couldn't imagine the agony she was going through.
She had gone to help her friend. But why did her father (he assumed) attack her?
Or maybe he was getting it all wrong?
He hoped he was getting it all wrong and this was a mishap.
She was already touch avasive and distant, where these qualities also due to neglect and abuse?
He was thinking too much. This was probably the impact of training. She must've decided to skip healing it!
(He avoided thinking about how absurd his reasoning sounded)
However, Athena had been with him all day. When they had first met, she had stayed with him for one hour (including the Quick Thought).
Not that he was complaining, but as the Goddess of Wisdom and War and Crafts, she seemed to have a lot of work to do.
Why wasn't she on Olympus?
Why was she spending so much time on him?
Was she sensing some danger?
Was her wisdom able to sense the future? What was she not telling him?
He trusted her with his life. She saved him from the worst Antinous, and she was here to save him again.
But what was so bad that would happen? The suitors had already tried for an uprising and failed before.
His mom had handled it with her genius idea of weaving.
But what had he done? He was useless as the prince, and once the suitors would attack he would likely be executed.
He did not know anything, he realised.
He was the pampered prince of Ithaca, who failed to save the queen because of his failed skills as a warrior.
Athena had fainted, the uprising would be soon.
He had to help her heal, for the tumultuous event was into motion.
So he carried on with the healing process; removing muddy bandages, cleaning the wound with alcohol, applying valve and bandaging.
He would continue to do so till the dead of night, till she was awake, as that was his duty now.
His duty was to the Goddess that saved him. That gave him hope.
His duty was to his family and she was in it.
The young prince did not once notice the presence of the two men spying on him.
Virtue and Vice glaring at his every move.
OoOoOoOoOoOo
Hermes, the messenger god, as well as travelers, merchants, thieves, athletes, language, and commerce, watched the young boy at work.
He had the choice to act. In fact, he felt the winds pushing him closer.
It was too subconscious for it to be Aeolus' prank nor the Anemoi.
Aeolus wouldn't act now that his wind bad was with Odysseus...
He hardly had a choice despite what the gentle breeze offered.
All gods were banned from helping Athena.
The punishment would be too severe, Zeus had been wrathful for days.
He recalled Artemis finding a loophole.
"I don't have to help her heal, reverting the wounds would suffice" she claimed haughtily.
"As proud as you may seem, reverting the wounds will only help her for the time being. Her wounds will explode if she doesn't take care of it." Apollo warned.
"She's the wise one isn't she dawling? She'll know what to do."
He bit his lip, He certainly regretted his words.
This was bad.
Her injuries were worse than they predicted.
She had not taken care of them.
He watched as his great-great grandson bandage his sister. At least she had someone who was taking care of her.
He was relieved.
At least, this gave her some time.
Hermes recounted his trial.
Zeus' rampage...
"That bastard's punishing us all for her stand! He plans to make us all pay. Be prepared, don't let it be like mine."
"What did he do to you Ares, dear." questioned Hestia.
"Reliving everything you dread." Apollo shuddered having just passed the trial.
Both the men looked pale. Apollo was mentally numb most of the time. He appeared as though he had lost his reason to live...He hardly said anything, his music and poetry died within his tongue.
Ares was physically destroyed...but his own weapon was trapped in his ribs. He spat out blood with every step and a crying Aphrodite tried to heal the hurt.
Always eager Apollo did not even rush to help...
Now with his own wounds, arrows struck by his feet, stabbing every inch of mobility, he was no longer surprised.
'You think you can run away from all the havoc you cause?!' stab. He hated thinking that Zeus nearly killed the messenger.
He had faced agony.
In hopes of warning Athena, he saw her half-dead...with his great grandson aiding her rather than her siblings.
He tried to move away, or maybe move towards them, but he could hardly put up the face.
He went through hell.
She was barely surviving her attack. How would she manage to survive what was to come?
He knew Zeus always saved the best and the most destructive outcome for last.
He knew she would go through hell again.
Hermes had to tell her what father did to him. She had to understand what was coming after her.
Or she may even die.
Notes:
As I once mentioned, Athena is going to suffer.
You're welcome!
xx
Chapter 7: Trust
Summary:
Athena helps Telemachus. Mostly fluff, cause they both need it.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Goddess of Wisdom had finally woken up.
Well, not really, considering she was awake the whole time. Just in her subconscious. She reflected at it.
She had spent whatever number of hours underwater.
The cold waves hitting her body and her wings were getting soggy and heavy. What a familiar feeling.
She was lying down watching the skies where she once used to soar.
The creamy clouds gouached into the changing hues of the sky, the view was almost paint-worthy.
Birds hurled out of tree tops and flew together forming a dotted blanket in the sky.
Sunlight flickering in her eyes in every motion. Dots were dancing in her face and forming shining ripples in paradise.
It was calming. Just laying in the waterbody, not doing anything.
The other gods had mentioned how Athena always had to be preoccupied with something. She could never sit still and do nothing. Helping heroes or mentoring her students, forming war strategies or sparring with Ares. She also weaved but she never really found time for it in recent decades.
But really, she had no problem sitting still, she just needed the right environment.
The truth was, she was never really given a break to just do anything. She was the Goddess Of Wisdom and she had to spend her time in a wise way.
"Hey Athena!".
A figure silhouetted above her.
Pallas.
Athena felt her heart rejoice, she felt anguish and grief too, but mostly she felt relief. Athena memorised every inch of Pallas, she knew she wouldn't see this face again
Then the green-scaled nymph jumped into the water and sent splashes all over the goddess giggling out of her mind. She used to do that so much before, her pranks were her trademark.
Athena quickly turned in a loop but got submerged deep into the water, she stared at the glowing green kingdom below her.
Each structure was like a glowing pearl, miniature at such a distance. She couldn't yet believe she could call this place her home. She did not think about how a few years from then, she would be banned from Triton's palace.
"Beautiful, isn't it?", asked the nymph now watching beside her.
She could only nod as she watched the star-like neon lights spark some fondness in her heart.
She was mesmerised.
"Y'know, you really are getting the hang of this, Thena." Pallas chimed.
"At what?" Athena finally spoke.
"At living."
There was a philosophical pause. The Goddess of Wisdom had not realised she could simply just be, simply just live.
She had lost this quaint feeling in future years. She had forgotten it. She had forgotton this memory too. She had forgotton Pallas was not only optimistic and mischievous but also wise were Athena wasn't.
"You have time now, time to be again. Don't look back into the past Thena. Wake up and look to the future."
"But then I'll have to lose you...", Athena whispered, "I already lost you back then...How can I let it happen again?" She remembered the lifeless body in her hands, bloody everywhere...The distant screams as the nymph stopped breathing. Her last words...
Pallas lightly wiped the tears, Athena did not realise were falling.
"You will never lose me, but you may lose him...so go."
She was pushed back into the familiar sunlight in the woods.
Her thoughts were running slow, she was still stuck in that scene that just took place.
She had forgotten how her dear Pallas looked...
"you may lose him...so go."
She looked around, Telemachus was gone.
By the gods!
She hoped she was just hallucinating and Pallas did not mean him.
She gently got up, sniffing and hearing for anybody's presence.
Her eyes were officially mute to the surroundings but her smell spotted two figures other than Telemachus' citrusy smell.
There was a faint waft of Holy Moly...Hermes was here. That couldn't be right...
She knew there was someone else she couldn't quite place.
What if the Suitors caught the little wolf.
But then, in that case, they would've seen an injured goddess.
Was that why Hermes was here? Could father have realised that she was here because of the rumors?
Rumors could be spread quickly amongst mortals. She did not think about how Zeus would react if that happened.
She would be called back to Olympus. She punished again for being in such a despicable state, in view to all beings.
She had failed.
She had failed to be a proper Goddess, a perfect child and now she had failed as a mentor...
Did Hermes take Telemachus? Or maybe the Suitors...
You can Breathe underwater Thena, trust yourself.
She paused. She had to think.
Whatever the case, Telemachus was in danger...
She could not let any other divine intervention take place in this family. Hermes wouldn't let his great grandson be in trouble.
Then it must've been the suitors.
She quickly turned into her owl form and flew to where she knew the suitors were. Their infestation lay in the west side of the place till the kitchen.
The worst of them was always troubling the servants.
Telemachus must be there.
SHe flew faster than ever, noticing her rejuvenated limbs.
She took a mental note to thank Telemachus, but she had to make sure he stayed alive first.
Finally, after the not so fast flapping of her wings she reached the window sill near the kitchen.
She had always told her children students to understand the situation before blindly going in for an attack.
And despite the dire situation, she had to make sure this went correctly.
She saw the little wolf tied tightly to a chair, anger boiled in her veins.
Next she saw the suitor attacking the boy, Antinous' assistant.
That was strange, Antinous was nowhere to be seen.
Was there a political change in the hierarchy of the Suitors? That would change some plans, considering Odysseus would return this evening if he was released.
She shook her head. She could focus on that later.
She has to listen.
"Why are you doing this? I keep telling you, I did not do it." Telemachus said in a distressed voice.
"STOP lying. I saw you in the woods, boy. I know you did it."screamed the suitor Athena believed was Eurymachus.
"I was simply feeding the ducks in the lake, I don't know anything about weapons...How could you assume I was training?, he sighed breathlessly, "You suitors can say whatever you want but you yourselves prevented any access to the weapon room. Are you doubting your abilities?"
The bulky suitor then hit the boy brutally. Athena wanted to kill that man.
Then, the suitor pulled Telemachus' hair and inched his face near him.
"Don't insult us, you useless boy. If I see you disrupting us in ANY way, you are dead. Got it?" He growled.
"...Yes". Telemachus resigned as the suitors left.
This was bad.
She waited for a few seconds ensuring the dogs had left.
Then, Athena quickly flew close to the boy and undid his rope.
She searched his face for injuries. He was bruised, but it would be manageable. He had probably been hit thrice.
Then she chirped at the door outside and he followed her back into the empty backyard. His eyes were dead and watery, whatever torment they had made him go through was emotionally bad.
He collapsed on the bench and sighed.
"What happened there, Little Wolf?" She sat beside him now in her physical form.
Silence.
"You don't have to tell me what happened...Are you okay?"
"No...Athena...I'm tired of always failing!...", he whispered not sharing eye contact, "Eurymachus, he- he saw me apply valve and thought...he thought I was making weapons. You had turned invisible somehow and then he came behind me and dragged me to the kitchen."
She had turned invisible? More importantly, How did the man see Telemachus and her? Athena had made sure to enchant the place...
He cried lightly as she patted his back as reassuringly as she could. She was new to this but she had to think of how he was feeling rather than herself.
"It's alright Telemachus, It's alright, you're okay now." She whispered into his ear as her mom used to...
"I couldn't fight back Thena!", he then wailed and cried loudly.
She embraced him as lightly as she could so that she wouldn't hurt him.
"You can, little child and you will. You are doing it so well, Odysseus would be proud of you. I am proud of you.."
"But dad is brav-"
"No buts Telemachus. You can only succeed if you have faith in yourself...look at me, I'm in this state because I did not have faith in myself, but I do have faith in you."
He finally made eye contact with her.
"Thena why are you helping me, Is it because you knew my dad or am I that pitiable?"
Athena paused. She had not thought of why this child had come so close to her heart. She did not like how negatively this child was thinking either...she had to find the right words.
She lightly wiped his tears, as Pallas had just done for her.
"You, young wolf, have a larger heart than all those men combined. I'm helping you for the heart and compassion you helped me find peace that day. I'm helping you because I see your passion and know how much the world will change when you finally get the freedom and space to live. And most importantly, I'm helping you because you are my friend, Telemachus...You are braver than even your father was at your age, trust me on that, he used to fall off trees..."
Then they both smiled and chuckled and they laughed amicably as the sunrise turned brighter.
"So, when are you gonna tell me how that happened?," he nudged her looking at her wounds.
She smiled and then said, "Why don't I tell you a little story about my student, Odysseus."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
'So, I was right. He is talking to somebody. It's a woman, a cloaked one but I know it's a woman. But that aura.'
A butchered-up man watched from the forest.
'He isn't forging a weapon, he's talking to a Goddess...That bloody Eurymachus, thinking he can throw me out and become the leader. I'll show him. I will kill the kid in cold blood the second the Goddess leaves.'
'I will enter the Queen's chambers tonight!'
Notes:
Athena cares for Telemarketing, she just can't admit it.